Agent Gamma
by Della C
Summary: A group of short stories about Agents Gamma and Rogers, in a slightly altered/expanded Matrix world. These characters are mostly original, and are.... different. But they make me happy. :)
1. Introduction

A young, well-dressed woman was browsing through Marshall's, looking for bargains. Not an uncommon sight at all. She found a disgusting orange sundress and held it up to her body to see if it would fit. It wouldn't. She replaced it.  
  
She would be very good looking if it weren't for the faint discoloration of the skin around her right eye. It wasn't quite a bruise, and it wasn't quite makeup. It looked like someone had stuck a bit of different colored skin at the outside corner of her right eye.  
  
There was a pair of sunglasses in one hand, she was aware of the discoloration, then. People moved around her normally. She was a perfectly normal young woman.  
  
A perfectly abnormal man walked in the door. He wore a black suit, a pair of black sunglasses, and had an earpiece that trailed into his collar. The perfectly abnormal man walked over to the perfectly normal woman, who acknowledged his presence by not turning around.  
  
"Agent Rogers." She said in a sweet voice.  
  
"Agent Gamma." He responded. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Shopping." Agent Gamma pushed a strand of dark red hair behind her ear, her silver fingernails flashing. "What do you want, Rogers?"  
  
"To talk." Agent Rogers' brow furrowed as he saw the armful of clothes his comrade had in her arms. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
Gamma pushed past him. "Because it's fun. Come with me. We can talk in the dressing rooms."  
  
Nobody thought anything of Rogers following the young woman into the women's dressing room.  
  
Agent Rogers sat down on the bench and watched his comrade change into the various outfits without the slightest amount of interest in her slender body. "You realize that you were supposed to see the Debugger today."  
  
"Yes I do." Gamma turned in a circle, examining her body in the mirror to see if the flowing blue skirt she'd picked out fit her.  
  
"Why didn't you go?"  
  
"Because I didn't want to." She tried on a pink top. "Do you think this color makes me look fat?"  
  
"Gamma. You need to go. They think you have bugs in your system. Just go. It can't hurt you."  
  
"I don't need to go." She shrugged out of the top. "They designed me right the first time."  
  
"They don't design ANYTHING right the first time. Remember what happened to your predecessors."  
  
"Just because THEY went insane doesn't mean I will." Gamma selected a pretty black and silver dress to try on next. "Besides, we don't KNOW if Omega went insane, she could have just gone rogue."  
  
"You have FAR too much free-will programmed into you."  
  
"That's an amusing concept. Free will programming." Gamma twirled, making the dress flair. "Do you like this one?"  
  
"Yes. It matches your eyes." Rogers stood up. "Are you almost finished?"  
  
Agent Gamma took one last look at herself in the black and silver dress. "I think so. I'm going to take this one."  
  
"Fine. Just promise you'll come with me."  
  
Gamma nodded absently and unlocked the dressing room door. "What kind of car do you have today?"  
  
Agent Rogers grinned. "You'll be pleased. A black Mazda RX."  
  
"Which you are going to let me drive, yes?"  
  
"Only if you agree to go to the debugger today." Rogers's good mood faded away swiftly. "You have to go."  
  
Agent Gamma put on her sunglasses and walked out of Marshall's indifferently.  
  
Agent Rogers was not pleased with this.  
  
"Agent Gamma 3.14." He snapped, striding forwards. "Do you realize that you're disobeying a direct order? Do you realize that they'll send other Agents after you to drag you back?"  
  
"If they were going to they would have already, Agent Rogers. Now get away from me before I kill you again."  
  
"Gamma, stop being an idiot." Rogers grabbed the female Agent's arm. "Gamm-"  
  
He was cut off short as Agent Gamma 3.14 spun around and thrust her hands into his chest.  
  
A grunt of pain escaped his lips as those delicate-looking fingers dug through his body. Rogers didn't look all that surprised when Gamma, with a completely calm face, ripped his ribcage open with her bare hands.  
  
The body of an unidentifiable businessman dropped to the ground, blood and guts falling spilling out of the gaping cavity in his chest. He could have been anyone. His nametag declared that his name was Kyle Markenson. Kyle Markenson no longer existed. His face was a mask of blood and pain.  
  
Someone shouted. A kid. A boy. The female Agent turned to watch. The shout morphed into a mechanical gargle, and the boy's features contorted and twisted, blurring his form into that of Agent Rogers. The nameless boy was now dead.  
  
"That was unnecessary, Gamma." He said, straightening his tie and looking irritated. "Really, you should have more control."  
  
"Shut up and get in the car, Rogers." Agent Gamma peeled the bit of discolored skin off of her face, revealing a strip of silver. "We have work to do." 


	2. Corruption

Before I begin today's Gamma short, I have to explain a few things. First off: I do not own the concept or any part of the Matrix except for Gamma and Rogers. The concept of the Debugger belongs to my good friend Mike, the Suburban Legend. On to the other things that need explaining.  
  
Project: Omega created Agent Omega, the first female Agent. Omega seemed stable, then went rogue and dropped off all scanners. I can't tell you what else I know because then Mike would hunt me down and kill me with a meterstick.  
  
The Debugger: It shouldn't take you long to figure this out. He's a program that fixes other programs. Experimental programs like Gamma are scheduled to see the Debugger every 1000 cycles. (1000 cycles = about a month) Gamma DETESTS seeing the Debugger, as he tends to toy with her emotive processes, which makes her paranoid when she reawakens. Regular Agents go to the Debugger every 6000 cycles, and mass-produced programs every 12000.  
  
The setting of this short is before the last one by approximately six months. It is meant to give you a better idea of who the hell these two characters are. Hope you enjoy!  
  
~dellzini the magnificent  
  
**********  
  
"Can I have a cookie?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you don't need one."  
  
"You're mean."  
  
"Try to focus, Gamma."  
  
"There's nothing to focus ON, Rogers!"  
  
Agents Gamma and Rogers had no specific assignment for once, and Gamma was, as usual, attempting to make good of her temporary freedom. Rogers was simply spoiling her fun.  
  
She tried again. "Come on, Rogers. We've got nothing to do. Lets go to Starbucks and get some coffee or something."  
  
"You know I don't trust Starbucks." Rogers scowled slightly, the expression flitting across his stone-carved face like a shadow. "They have such second-rate programming in their coffee."  
  
"Bah. I just want a mocha frappuccino. Those things are good." The female Agent rubbed her right eye, and the silver streak next to it glinted in the sun. "Besides, there can be such interesting people inside a Starbucks."  
  
Rogers scowled again, this time more noticeably. "You shouldn't be consorting with humans. It's indecent."  
  
Rogers looked the typical Agent, about six feet tall, straight, short brown hair, sunglasses, and a black suit. Inside the jacket were two semiautomatic handguns, standard Agent side arms. The only things that set Rogers apart from his Agent brethren were his striking blue eyes and the tiny silver dot in the corner of his right eye, in the same position as Gamma's streak.  
  
He was, in fact, not a real Agent. The original Agent named Rogers had long since been terminated, his basic code kept around for reference. After the deep failure that was Project: Omega, it was decided that the new Agents that would be created in Project: Gamma would need chaperones.  
  
Gamma 1.0 never functioned properly, and was terminated almost instantly.  
  
Gamma 2.0 worked relatively well. A partner Agent was designed for her; also based after the original Rogers code. However, Gamma 2.0 proved to be unstable, and before she could be terminated she killed herself and her partner.  
  
Gamma 3.14 was the first of the three that was at all effective. Agent Rogers was revived a second time with a few advances to his code. The silver dot was a way of connecting him with Agent Gamma without interference from any other Agents. This time they took many precautions with the pair of Agents. If Gamma began to go rogue, a lock would go down on her ability to Jump, or possess different bodies. Her ability to dodge bullets would be severely weakened, and her movements would be slowed. She would become a simple Level 2 Agent.  
  
Rogers, a Level 15 Agent, would then be able to overpower her, subdue her, and bring her to the Debugger to get her mind back in order.  
  
The new Agent Rogers was also given an update in his emotive responses to keep Gamma from getting bored with him and running off. Like she was doing right now.  
  
Rogers caught her by the hand before she completed the Jump into a body inside Starbucks. She was startled back into that body by the abrupt contact. "Just stay here, okay?"  
  
Gamma looked highly miffed. "Why? We have no mission, so why?"  
  
"Because I said so, that's why."  
  
"You're like a child!"  
  
"The pot calling the kettle black."  
  
"Oh, shut up."  
  
They drove in silence for a while. Gamma had, for once, actually paid attention to what her partner had said, and was still inside the car. She put on her sunglasses, and appeared to sleep, though programs needed no sleep. Rogers didn't spare her a glance, knowing that she would probably stay inside the vehicle for a while.  
  
They passed the time in seeming silence. Anyone looking into the windows of their car, a green station wagon would see two adults going to work. The sentient codes in the area sent them friendly but distracted greetings as they drove past.  
  
It was a relatively quiet day. Not too quiet, as there was a significant amount of rebel activity going on in Canada and in the French Alps, some light activity near the Anomaly, but nothing that Gamma and Rogers needed to worry about. Every few minutes one of them would send out a signal asking if any action was required of them.  
  
Agent Gamma suddenly insisted that they pull over. The urgency in her tone startled the usually imperturbable Rogers. He shot a glance over at her; she was clutching her face, digging her silver fingernails into skin. As he pulled into a parking lot for a K-Mart, Rogers checked his partners' signal.  
  
Something was definitely wrong. Her code was scrambled slightly, just enough to be detectable by a regular Agent through his earpiece. Using his peculiar connection with Gamma, Rogers could feel the distortion almost as powerfully as if it was inside his own code.  
  
"What's the problem?" Rogers grabbed her wrists and held them tight, keeping her from running away if that was her intention. "Gamma. Gamma! Tell me what's wrong."  
  
Gamma jerked away from him. Her Agent programming hadn't locked down, so she must have had some amount of control. "Don't. don't touch me. I don't think it's a virus, but I don't know what it is. Don't want it to get into you."  
  
Rogers nodded, but did not draw back. If anything, he leaned closer. "What is it doing to you?"  
  
"Keeping me from knowing what's going on." Her eyes flew open. Rogers felt the problem before she could transmit the thought to him, much less vocalize it. "It's broadcasting itself."  
  
She began fumbling with her earrings, but whatever was disrupting her code had isolated her fine motor skills from the rest of her. If she kept the earrings on, the disturbance could spread itself to any other Agents in the area. She had to get them off.  
  
Agent Rogers pushed her hands away without a word and ripped the earrings out of her ears without bothering to unclasp them. She cried out, more from shock than from pain, and blood dripped onto her shoulders.  
  
"Gamma. Focus. What's wrong with you?"  
  
The female Agent grimaced, analyzing her own code. "It's definitely not a virus, but it's transmitting information that it shouldn't be." She glanced at the bloody silver loops in her partner's hand. "Crush those."  
  
Rogers looked at her. His face was expressionless, but over their link he radiated caution. "You realize that will be taken as a sign of you going rogue."  
  
"Agent Rogers I COMMAND you to smash those things. If anyone asks you what happened, tell them to keep away. I'm under control."  
  
After the direct order, Rogers couldn't help but comply. His calloused hands turned the earring/transmitters into dust. Almost instantly, alerts began flooding into his earpiece. Every Agent within 150 miles was calling him, asking him if the new, unstable program was being disruptive. It took nearly a full minute to assure them all that assistance was unnecessary, and probably would be detrimental to the mental functioning of Gamma 3.14  
  
Meanwhile, Gamma was muttering and tapping the streak of silver next to her eye. "Emotion simulators disrupted. Fine motor skills down. Logic processes down. Pain reception increase. By the Source." She jerked and grunted. "Faulty coordination. Muscle response spastic." Agent Gamma's body began to seize violently.  
  
Rogers grabbed her arms again. It took her a while to react. Far too long. Her eyes opened, her face twitching. "R.Rogers. I k-can't."  
  
"Get out of the car." Rogers reached across her, opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt for her. Gamma always wore her seatbelt. Always. She had just enough coordination to move out of the car and stand up, leaning heavily on the side. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the more powerful seizures decreased. Rogers was behind her instantly.  
  
"S-s-s-speech imp-p-paired." Gamma spun, and grabbed onto Rogers' suit. "Get-t-t-t hel-lp."  
  
Rogers had already done so. The Debugger was already there, moving with insane speed on his skateboard. He took one look at the car and shouted: "Both of you get away from that thing!"  
  
Agent Rogers did as he was told, carrying Gamma. A few humans noticed them, but not many. They were too busy with their own affairs to worry about the creatures that kept their fragile fantasy in place. The frail- looking, blue-haired boy lifted Gamma out of Rogers' arms with surprising ease. She fell into a sort of coma instantly.  
  
"Agent Rogers," The Debugger's dark eyes no longer held their usual friendliness. "Call a cleanup crew. The passenger seat of this car isn't functioning like it should. Don't let anyone actually touch it, it will corrupt their code."  
  
Rogers nodded and did as he was told. Then, completely out of character for any Agent: "Will she be okay?"  
  
The Debugger almost looked startled, but it may have been a cloud passing the sun and casting a shadow across his young features. "She should be fine. Her code isn't too badly scrambled. Be at Wizards in half a cycle to pick her up. She'll be a bit disoriented, but she should be fine."  
  
The non-Agent nodded once more, but he looked disturbingly helpless. One might have likened him to a soldier who returned home from war knowing nothing of peace, someone with the need to do his duty, but no duty to perform.  
  
The Debugger zipped off, carrying Agent Gamma. Rogers stood still for a moment, then Jumped away from that body, leaving behind a disgruntled magazine salesman who was promptly ushered away from the scene by a cleanup crew.  
  
***  
  
The endless streams of data flowed on. The humans continued living in their dream world, unknowing. None of them would ever appreciate these sentient creatures that kept their minds functioning. None of them would ever know their stories.  
  
None of them would care. 


	3. Mission

AN: I have NO clue when this occurs in the Gamma storylines. Probably several thousand cycles later than the other two. Use your imagination!  
  
***  
  
What I'm doing right now is more illegal than you can possibly imagine. What I'm doing right now could be seen as an act of me going Rogue. Another one. Especially because Agent Rogers isn't here.  
  
I made this tape recorder myself. It took me about 3000 cycles. I don't know why I did it; I suppose I just needed something to talk to. I know I can talk to Rogers, but I confuse him. I can see it on his face every time I start mentioning the reasons why programs go Rogue, or why they'd bother breaking the rules. It's illogical; it's stupid. It's insubordination to a degree that even I can't aspire to.  
  
But I guess I can, because here I am with an object that shouldn't exist, saying things that shouldn't be said.  
  
It'll leave a trace. All objects that don't obey the rules leave a trace, that's how we can find them. I can already feel it; it makes a sound, sort of, a light ringing. It's very annoying, but I don't know how to delete the traces. I'm just paying a lot of attention to the signals other Agents are sending out, so that if anyone sends out an alert, I can crush the recorder and Jump away. There's only one carrier signal anywhere near me, and it's a Watcher hanging out on the highway.  
  
I'm having problems with my own code. Every so often something inside my programming gets distorted, and I can't ever locate what. It doesn't last long enough for me to find out what's wrong with my mind. I haven't told this to Rogers yet and he obviously can't feel it through our connection. He'd have made me go to the Debugger by now if that were so.  
  
I dislike going to the Debugger. Rogers actually rather enjoys going, he says it's rather soothing. That sounds so wrong to me, the prospect of being disconnected for any length of time irks me. I get paranoid after waking up from the sessions. I don't like it even when Rogers goes, because he comes back with his emotive processes inhibited slightly, and then I confuse him even more. It bothers me, his being confused. It makes me feel superior, and then I feel alone.  
  
I shouldn't feel at all. I'm an Agent.  
  
I've been talking to humans more often now, discussing the concepts of emotion with them. They just think I'm a random, friendly woman in the coffee shops. One thing I've noticed about them is their desire to be understood by someone. I was talking to a girl whose lover had abandoned her. She was sobbing and I was trying to comfort her, though nothing in my programming could possibly explain this outpouring of emotion she was displaying. "I really thought he UNDERSTOOD me!" She said. That hit me.  
  
I want to be understood by someone.  
  
That's not normal. That's VERY abnormal, even for an unstable, experimental model like myself. There's a reason Agents don't have emotions, they're notoriously dangerous. Even inside the Matrix, emotion is a large component in human wars. As an Agent, I should be incapable of hatred, fear, love, and pain. I should be neutral.  
  
Then why do I hate Rogues so much? Just because their actions are illogical and insubordinate? That makes me a hypocrite then. Why do I fear termination? My code would eventually be recycled, so it's not death like the human death. Why do I feel pain when someone else kills Rogers? It makes no sense to me. It's illogical.  
  
There it goes again. That distortion. I knew it would. I think I know what it is now, whenever I start contradicting myself and become more and more confused, it twitches. It's like a muscle spasm.  
  
That's going to inhibit my discussions of emotion with the humans greatly. That's probably why it's still there after several trips to the Debugger. He probably put it there, the blue haired little freak.  
  
They're coming.  
  
Gamma heard the carrier signals of seven Agents coming her way, one of them being Rogers. He was attempting to hail her over their private connection, but she had locked him out. Going through Rogers's earpiece, she determined their goal: She had been placed at priority four for retrieval. They were coming to get her, and all were prepared to terminate her if that was necessary.  
  
She sighed and put the recorder on the floor. She stepped on it. It shattered; its trace was disrupted, and then ceased.  
  
The seven Agents burst into the room to find an extremely confused 14-year- old girl, who saw their guns and immediately started crying. Rogers walked into the room and picked up the remains of Gamma's recorder.  
  
"What was she doing?" Asked Agent Johnson, one of the many low-level, unimaginative Suits that Agent Gamma held in disregard.  
  
Rogers rubbed a bit of metal absently. "She was recording something, but it's lost now." He glanced at the 14-year-old. She had curled herself into a little ball in the corner and was staring fearfully at the Agents. Rogers took uncharacteristic mercy on her and knocked her unconscious. "Agent King, take this back to it's home. It shouldn't remember anything."  
  
Suddenly Gamma's voice filled his private link. "She's not an IT, Rogers. She's a human female. They're not just animals, you know."  
  
Agent Rogers rubbed his eyes, tiredly. "I'll take over from here." He told the other Agents. "If Gamma can still Jump, she's not going Rogue. I can handle things from here." To Gamma he said this: ~You are SO much more trouble than you are worth.~ She didn't respond.  
  
The other Agents filed out, the more intelligent ones sending him a few signals that, translated into a language humans can understand, said something along the lines of "Women are insane."  
  
Rogers could only agree.  
  
Agent Gamma 3.141 was back at the coffee shop where Rogers had left her, eating a cookie and reading Dune. She looked up at him, "Hello."  
  
"Agent Gamma." Rogers stood next to her, pretending to read over her shoulder so that they would stay inconspicuous. "What exactly where you doing back there?"  
  
"Nothing." Gamma turned a page in her book, beginning a new chapter.  
  
Rogers's face was totally blank as he set a hand on the back of Gamma's neck, a hostile move made slightly less so by the gentle signal he sent to her over their link. The female Agent didn't react negatively, which surprised Rogers. If anything, she arched her neck slightly, which would allow him to break her spine as easily as he could break a stick.  
  
"What are you doing NOW, Gamma?" He asked, slightly confused.  
  
"I'm reading a book, Rogers. Please, if you don't intend to break it, let go of my neck. I have survival instincts programmed into me, you know."  
  
"If you thought I was really going to snap your neck then, you'd have done something about it by now." He increased the pressure on her spine slightly, and was rewarded by Agent Gamma spinning around and grabbing his wrist, threatening to break it. He simply stared at her through his dark glasses, unthreatened. "Why don't you tell me what you were doing so I don't have to go looking myself?"  
  
Gamma released his wrist. Rogers was perfectly capable of entering her mind and finding whatever information he wanted, and she knew it. The intrusion would not be welcomed, and, if she fought it, could be quite painful.  
  
"Sit down then." As Rogers did so, she folded her hands in front of her and leaned forwards. "I needed something to talk to. That's all. Nothing more. So I bought some parts and built a tape recorder. I knew that I was breaking the rules, and that I would probably get into a massive amount of trouble for it, but I needed to do it, so I did." Gamma sat back. "Satisfied?"  
  
"No." Rogers cocked his head and touched his earpiece as he received a signal. Gamma heard it as well. They were needed on the outskirts of the Anomaly to serve as back up, a group of rebels were attempting to sneak away with a valuable program. "Let's go."  
  
They Jumped away; leaving behind an old woman who promptly had a heart attack, and a young man whose last memory was working at McDonalds.  
  
The young man was admitted into a mental hospital a week later. This happens quite often.  
  
The old woman died. It was terribly unfortunate, but she was reaching a stage where she wasn't providing much energy anyway. Her body was reduced to its basic components and drained of its nutrients and used as food for the rest of the human population. This happens quite often.  
  
An Agent revealed that it felt emotion. This has not happened for many years.  
  
***  
  
Rebels were attempting to steal one of the Databases that Agents and other sentient programs used to retrieve information from. This happens more often than the machines would like. Of course, success in kidnapping the cleverly disguised codes happens far less often than the rebels would like.  
  
There was a young nuclear family driving towards Old Ellicott City, a haven for Exile and Rogue programs. A rather large section of Ellicott City and Columbia Maryland comprised the local Anomaly. This Anomaly was in a constant state of flux, prone to shrinking and expanding in size without warning. This created a bit of a problem for Agents, as once they entered the Anomaly they could no longer Jump, and their abilities were reduced by at least two Levels.  
  
This meant that one lucky shot from a Rebel gun could kill an Agent. Permanently.  
  
The young nuclear family was having a bit of an argument, this time over grades. It appears that the elder daughter was not performing up to expectations, and the parents were letting her know this.  
  
"If you keep getting Cs in school you will fail in life." Her father informed her. "Cs are not acceptable on your report cards. Only As are acceptable, do you understand? Anything less is a failure. Do you understand m-"  
  
The elder daughter had lapsed into a belligerent silence quite some time ago, but now she screamed as her father's angry words were suddenly strangled, and transformed into a twisting, mechanical gargle. Her scream grew louder as her mother's features began to melt and blur. Her sister was echoing her scream as their parents morphed into Agents Rogers and Gamma.  
  
Rogers wanted to shoot the hysterical children, but Gamma wouldn't let him. She silenced them both with the threat of breaking their kneecaps; then dropped them off on the side of the road, assuring them that their parents would probably be perfectly fine.  
  
"That was foolish." Said Rogers as they drove away from the still-weeping children.  
  
Gamma looked straight ahead, refusing to respond. This was perfectly fine with Rogers, though he sent a single questioning string through their link. Her answer was just as simple: "Stuff it."  
  
The non-Agent ignored her rudeness and continued driving. Gamma stared out her window and absently stroked her automatic handgun. There was a large, white truck next to them. Gamma didn't like trucks, though she admitted to feeling a sick sort of pleasure when she felt a Rebel's body crunch beneath the tires of a sixteen-wheeler. There were two men inside the truck, one fat and hairy and the other skinny and nervous looking. A few seconds and a barrage of warped carrier signals later, and the truckers became Agents Johnson and Black.  
  
Johnson was a gray-suited Level 12 Agent, the kind most often used against rebel groups. Black was Level 17. They sent greetings to Gamma and Rogers, and were slightly confused with Gamma declined to reply. Roger simply told them not to worry about it.  
  
They didn't.  
  
Gamma continued to absently polish her gun on her coat. Looking out the window, she made a face at Johnson and Black, who ignored her. With a certain amount of boredom, she tapped into a public highway database, asking for information about the stolen program. It responded through her earrings:  
  
~Database 63.376: A secondary database used for high-level Agent and Debugger access only. It contains information about Exile and Rogue programs. ~ There was a slight pause before the database informed Gamma that she did not have security clearance to obtain more information about the contents of the stolen Database 63.376  
  
The female Agent frowned and disconnected.  
  
"This one's a bit more complicated than the last one, isn't it?" Gamma returned her gun to its proper place.  
  
Rogers answered. "Yes."  
  
"You're not going to talk to me, are you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well you can go screw yourself then."  
  
"I'd really rather not."  
  
Gamma glared at Rogers. His face was as impassive as ever, but Gamma could swear that she detected an element of humor among the stone-carved features. Shaking her blood red hair out of her eyes, she sat back and stared out her window. Johnson and Black were sitting in their truck, silent, stoic, and extremely creepy.  
  
Silence didn't suit Gamma. She tried to hail Black, but his response was empty and submissive. And they wondered why she chose to talk to humans. She turned to Rogers, who looked ready to shoot out the tires of the slow- moving SUV in front of him.  
  
"How close are they to the Anomaly?"  
  
Given that her question was directly related to their current mission, Rogers chose to respond: "Too close for comfort. 4 miles. Well within range for any potential fluctuations in size." Rogers scowl deepened, despite the SUV's lane change. "I don't see why they want us doing this. You shouldn't be anywhere near that Anomaly."  
  
"None of us should be. It's insane." Gamma put her feet up on the glove compartment. Rogers swatted her, demanding that she remove them. For once she obeyed him. "Really. It's absurdly dangerous."  
  
"Especially for you. If we get word of the Anomaly expanding two miles from where we are, you will Jump away, understand?"  
  
Although Gamma hated it, it made sense. If she was caught in the Anomaly, she could be killed. Or worse: captured. If the Rebels managed to capture Gamma they would use her against her rightful creators. They would delete her intelligence. She wouldn't even have the semblance of free will that she did now.  
  
Rogers was waiting for her to respond. "Fine. But if we're in the middle of a fight I'm finishing it, even if the Anomaly overtakes us completely."  
  
Her chaperone Agent removed his sunglasses and glared at her with his icy blue eyes. "Do you WANT to die?"  
  
"No." The rebellious look was gone from Gamma's eyes. "No. I just want to kill."  
  
This both surprised Rogers and put him at ease. Agent Gamma was relatively young, and it was not uncommon for new or experimental Agents to desire the scent and feel of battle more strongly than the senior Agents. However, Gamma had never expressed this desire before, and had even shown an aversion to killing humans. Admittedly, once she began a battle, she was very - thorough. Very seldom did a human escape from Gamma once she determined that it should be terminated. Agent Rogers had decided that her indecision pertaining to death was one of Gamma's many little idiosyncrasies, and generally harmless.  
  
She was staring out the window now, and rubbing her arm. Something was making her uncomfortable, but Rogers couldn't place what. He reached over and tapped her shoulder lightly with two fingers. It wasn't an action that required a response, and Rogers wasn't surprised when he didn't receive one. They drove in silence again, but it was now a comfortable silence.  
  
~How long until we get there?~ Asked Gamma through their link, preferring this to actual speech during this rare moment of peace between them.  
  
~About fifteen minutes,~ Responded Rogers in the same manner. ~I can only hope that we get there in time.~  
  
Gamma frowned, and asked the mainframe for knowledge of the whereabouts of Database 63.376. It responded that there was no such database; that it had been deleted.  
  
~We're too late.~  
  
It was Rogers's turn to scowl. "That's impossible." He said out loud. "We would have been taken off the mission! We."  
  
Both Agents stopped as a transmission went out on all "public" frequencies. "All Agents assigned to retrieve Database 63.376, change objective. Agents Rogers, Gamma, Brown, Kirke are assigned to eliminate Rebels nearby the Anomaly. Agents Black, King, James, Jones report to Debugger immediately."  
  
All Agents sent out an affirmative reply, except for Gamma, who was still feeling irritable. Rogers was forced to answer through her, something both Agent and non-Agent detested.  
  
"I think a bit of a Jump is in order, don't you?" Rogers signaled Brown and Kirke, requesting information about their location. Kirke responded, including a pleasant greeting for Gamma. Agent Kirke was one of the few regular Agents who got along well with the experimental Agents.  
  
Kirke and Brown were in a vehicle about 2 miles from their objective. There were two coppertops in the back seat that Rogers and Gamma could use as hosts. Brown remarked that they had better hurry up; the people were making a racket.  
  
Gamma complied readily. She was perfectly happy to get away from Rogers even for a few moments.  
  
"Heya, Kirke!" She chirped as she completed the takeover of one of the bodies. "How about you let me drive?"  
  
"The last time you drove, Gamma, you killed my host. Rather painfully, I might add." Kirke glanced back at her for a moment. "I don't feel like being impaled upon a stop sign again."  
  
Gamma made a face at the back of Kirke's head, and then proceeded to ignore Rogers as he took control of the fourth body.  
  
She was completely silent all the way there, until Rogers screamed.  
  
*****  
  
AN: OH! CLIFFHANGER! BOOYAH! Well, it hardly matters, since nobody appears to be reading this anyway, but even so. I decided to include Brown in this one, just because Agent Brown is awesome. It was going to be Theta, the chain-smoking Newstyle Agent, but he'll be introduced later. That's the end of this installment of Agent Gamma! Tune in next time for another scintillating story about your not-quite-favorite female Agent!  
  
. 


End file.
